"Is this the real Incense of Calm?" Wyatt Crane chokes out, his knuckles turning white as he grips the edge of the mahogany table inside Mercer’s Corner Market. "How is that even possible coming from a human girl?"Celt Hawkridge doesn't answer immediately. His broad chest heaves as he takes another long, deep drag of the thick, dark smoke drifting from the burner. The volatile fever in his blood—the tearing, agony-inducing rage of his Alpha wolf—instantly cools, settling into a steady, controlled hum under his ribs.He uses his thumb and forefinger to pinch the lit tip of the incense stick, extinguishing the amber ember with careful precision. He places the stick back into the crude, unpolished dark pine box, sliding the iron latch shut. "That is the exact scent."Wyatt's face shifts from sheer disbelief to an intense, feverish grin. "If this is genuine Incense of Calm, Boss, your wolf core isn't going to collapse. Your strength will stay stable."Celt leans back in his darkwood leat
Last Updated : 2026-10-11 Read more